And So,

Here we go again. The oh-wtf-i'm-getting-used-to-having-you-around.

You think it's funny, manageable? You think that the constant crap I am being fed would make things better?

With the daily nightmares, the disrupted sleep patterns, the paranoia, the phone checking every minute, I know that this will take me nowhere.

Until I hear from you. Which is the only thing that makes everything okay.





Hate me.

Regurgitate

My heart skipped a beat
And suddenly made me feel
Sick
Did it jump and get stuck in my
Throat?

My face grows warm
With every move
You make
I am suddenly alive

It's 3AM
And I suddenly taste
What I had for
Lunch

I want to cry
But I can't
It only worsens the pain
Somebody end this

Excruciating
Slow death
I see and feel everything
But I'm a corpse.

Everything stops.

I stare at the clock.

Witching hour
I am not supposed
To be
Here.

This is me
Bleeding
Dying
From jealousy's deathly blow.

A Little Bird Once Told Me...

to forget the past since what's done is done.

Sometimes, it is better to leave the skeletons in the closet. Once you start cleaning, you just might get a rhinitis attack. And everything after dust and old stuff ain't gonna do you no good.

You Smell of the Fields

You smell of the fields
Warm
Crisp
Alive

Joyful
Exhilarated
Drugged
By your scent

You smell like siesta
Comforting
Light
Refreshing
On a Sunday afternoon

You smell like bibingka
Warm
Delicious
Desirable
You fill me in

You smell like love
Ardent
Passionate
Sensuous
I make you want me

I know your every scent
Every whiff of you is
Intoxicating
Hypnotizing

You are the air that I breathe.

Conundrum

If only
You knew
How much
You make me

High

Then it
Would be
Just dandy
To be around

You

But then
You can never
Ever
Know

The truth

You have
Her
I have
You

We have so
Much
In common
It makes me

Cry

I am your
Vitamin
Compensates for
What she

Lacks

You are
Prozac
You drag me
To work

Sane

She can never know
Nobody can ever know
What's in between
Sick, sad space called

Our world.

Happy New Year?

Nikki, have you ever thought of what you did in the past, last few days of 2011?

Apparently, yes. You wished you were stronger. More aggressive. Know how to say no when you feel like you do stuff for people who don't have a clue what you actually DO to please them. Stopped being on call. Don't think of people who may actually aggravate your little happiness. Fly.

You know what, you still think a lot. I'm guessing that's one thing you can't stop doing it, for that matter. Reason you cry a lot, get sick a lot, invoke paranoia, is because of this.

You actually cried for the wrong person. Of all people, would you believe? This is new, seriously.

Stop it. Love yourself a little bit more. Just how many days into 2012 and you start tearing your eyes out once again.

Dwell on Hemingway, Palanca et.al.

Brain, Brain, Go Away

Can you ever go on vacation without using your head for just once?

So things didn't go the way you wanted it to be. But is it still you to blame? 

How many times do you have to tell yourself that life will never be unfair yet you try to make things right the way you want it to be, the way you think it should be? You try to be happy and yet all the little reasons that make up your little world of happiness can be considered just pure bull?

Dammit.

You can hang yourself if you want to. Seriously.

Today's itinerary started like this: (After 12 MN)

4:16 AM: woke up. stared into space. stared at phone with such pity since it had been crying for a charge.

4:16:45 AM: shed a tear. this is shit. what the heck am i still doing here?

4:18 AM: dozed off to sleep.

6:20 AM: awaken by the sound of a human bullhorn aka the Marius. and a hug. sometimes hugs aren't worth reciprocating anymore. :(

6:45 AM: off to the seaside. somebody drown me.

7:30 AM: wanting so much to go home.

How can I go home if I can't even tell my parents what the heck is going on with me? A week ago I was in high spirits, loving myself and loving cleaning my room once more. Only proof that I am on the road to recovery. Only for me to find out that recovery is pretty much connected to relapse.

How I wish I could crawl into a hole and disappear.

Fail, fail, FAIL.